Friday, September 30, 2011

Here There Be Monsters

Last night, I put off writing my paper to have a sword fight.

My roommate has these two foam swords. Not like child-friendly, pool floating foam. No, these are like legit. Stiff and sturdy and really, really painful. I picked one up just to be funny; next thing you know, she's describing the art of fencing/fighting and we're in the living room duking it out. Except I was terrified by the fire in her eyes, so I shut mine and swung with both arms, whimpering faintly as she roared.

Actually, I was pretty good. I mean, it being my first time and all. I wasn't giving up easy. Halfway through, though, when I was giggle-crying, she told me, "You're like Luke Skywalker."

Whatever that means.

She hit me in the leg--after I chopped off her arm, mind you, though she kept on swinging. And now I have this major welt on my thigh, breaking blue against my skin. A war scar, if you will. It's pretty nast.And now, now I'm ready. I'll take her down in an instant. One fatal swoop, I'll have both her arms, I'll dice her legs to pieces and, as I stand over her bleeding-self I'll scream "Look who's Skywalker now!" I'll throw in a manly grunt, maybe kick her while she's down. I'll pound my chest, foam at the mouth and roar. So...yeah, you just wait for that. Because this, this is war.

Friday, September 16, 2011

This is Not a Date.

I went to a movie with a friend last night. We wanted to see Contagion, which is basically like a documentary. But horrifying. Also, I will never touch my face again. And if you cough on me, I might just kill you.

Anyways. The movie. We were hyper and laughing and harassing the concession cashier before tripping into the theater. It was empty, aside from three senior citizens sitting ridiculously close to the screen. I naturally wondered if maybe we were in the wrong theater (because I really doubt Contagion's target audience was anyone beyond 65).

"No, no," she said, "It's just a Thursday night. Nobody's here." So we sat down and ate popcorn and watched the trailers. For Puss in Boots. I thought, hey, maybe it's just a weird theater that shows any trailers it wants, regardless of subject matter. So I sat quietly--well, no, we were definitely not quiet; we may have been drunk (just kidding)--and watched a variety of cheesy, sentimental trailers until the screen went black and my friend leaned over to say "Now we'll know."

We both leaned forward with anticipation, I doubting her ability to lead me into the correct theater; her ready to gloat at her prowess. And then....

"Joseph Smith" scrolled across the screen.

We choked up laughing and tripped out the theater the same way we came in, almost running over yet another senior couple who came squabbling in.

But it was pretty hilarious.

This time, I led us to the right theater--filled with a variety of appropriately-aged audience-members--where we caught the trailers for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and the horror film, The Thing. Which made much more sense, considering we were there to watch famous people die by a mysterious, seizure-causing epidemic set to the most unnerving soundtrack ever written.

And it was creepy. Creepy awesome. Holy creepy awesome.

It was awesome.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Insert T-Rex Noise Here

I love Jurassic Park. I love it. Literally, and in every sense of the word. I worship it. I gain life lessons from it.

I am obsessed.

My roommate had never seen it, and I got her to watch it last night. She enjoyed it (of course), but mostly I was surprised at how into it I still get. I've seen it dozens upon dozens of times and it never fails to impress. I was hugging myself excitedly, leaning forward anxiously, smiling giddily. I mouthed along my favorite parts. I had to fight to keep from squealing during the best moments. I giggled at the cheesy parts. I cringed when the raptors popped up. And I was practically jumping out of my seat with possibly my all-time favorite line: "The door locks. Get the door locks."


I'm still smiling about it.

But, funny story? Well, said roommate who had never seen it--I was prepping her, talking excitedly and obsessively about its epic-ness. I told her how scary raptors are and she nodded and smile, I'm sure shocked by my enthusiasm. But we were watching and we got to the part where the raptors get out and she goes, "I thought raptors could fly."

Ho.Ly.Crap. That would be the most terrifying thing EVER. Can you even imagine. I kind of forgot about the movie for a second, I was so caught up in the idea of raptor with wings.

See? There is a god. Because if raptors had been given wings, we wouldn't have stood a chance. Forget about monkeys taking over the planet; flying raptors would definitely rule. And it would be horrifying.

Possibly awesome. But mostly horrifying.